


A Ride to Remember

by LadyArchive



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Backstory, Gen, Pre-Canon, Roosevelt's carriage, The Refuge, escape the refuge, jail break, nothing in the story itself though, references to abuse by guards/Snyder, references to historic punishment methods, shouldn't be any worse than what is implied in the play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2020-02-29 19:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18784687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyArchive/pseuds/LadyArchive
Summary: Jack Kelly's famous escape from the Refuge.  Pretty much just how I imagine that event might have gone.  Mentions of the other newsies and some hints at other adventures they've had.  I'm hoping to keep the portrayal of the Refuge as historically accurate as possible while still keeping with the Newsies canon.  I'm more familiar with the musical version than the film but I think it could still work for both.  Taking place September 1898.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The story takes place in September of 1898 during Roosevelt's campaign for governor. A big thank you to newsiesquare and all of their research and source compilations on Tumblr and brainstorming. This is my first fanfiction in a few years and first ever here on Archive of Our Own so I apologize for any hiccups or issues as I get used to things here. Comments/feedback are always welcome!

Lines of boys trudged along the corridors, feet dragging and shoulders slumped as the day’s work finally came to an end.  Jack hated looking defeated but it was hard to keep up a cocky and defiant attitude in these late hours. Snyder had immediately recognized Jack a month ago when he’d been dragged to the warden’s office.  Jack had already served time in this place a few times and apparently made quite an impression on the old Spider. That combined with being caught with a bag of clothes and food on Randall’s Island had been enough to get him immediately grouped with what Snyder liked to call the “worst cases.” Supposedly so far gone down the path of “corruption and disrespect for all authority” that it would take the most extreme measures to set them right.  And that meant the longest work shifts and the guards that liked to go straight to the harshest punishments for just about any reason.

 

So tonight all he could muster was a brief glare in the direction of the guard watching them file in.  Even that act small defiance earned him a rough shove into the room but it was worth making sure they knew he wasn’t fully beaten down.  Not even after what had felt like an especially demanding past few days of work.

 

As the metal door clanged shut and the sound of keys and a heavy bolt sliding into place echoed in the dim lit cell Jack hauled himself up to the top bunk.  And judging by how the other boys took their places without even much pushing or elbowing he wasn’t the only one to feel like they’d been worked even harder than usual- which was saying something.  Probably the Spider had demanded a bigger production quota so he could make more of a profit off the workforce of prisoners. Whatever the reason it left even the pair on the bottom bunk who usually tried to push the other off onto the floor resigned to just taking as much space as they needed and ignoring the others.

 

Jack doubted the beds could ever be considered comfortable with no less than two or three boys squeezing in.  Not to mention the faint smell of sweat and probably other things it was better not to think too much about in the old mattresses.  The blankets weren’t much better and so worn that they wouldn’t give much warmth as autumn went on bringing colder and colder temperatures.  But if there was one benefit to the overcrowded cells it was that being huddled together in the small beds did offer some warmth. Or it would be if feeling cramped and surrounded by people did set Jack on edge.  Eventually exhaustion always won out against any discomfort though.

 

But as Jack closed his eyes his mind wasn’t quite ready to fade off to sleep just yet.  Instead he tried to imagine paintings in his head. Wide open spaces with flat topped mountains in the distance instead of smog shrouded buildings and barred windows.  He’d be out there someday- like hell was Jack going to go to some factory and work himself to the bone just to fill someone else’s pockets when he got too old for hawking headlines.  He remembered how drained his dad always seemed coming home from that sort of work. And now all his stays here in the Refuge had given Jack a taste of it himself. No, he’d go out to Santa Fe and a farm like the ones he’d seen in a picture in one of the Lodging House library’s books.  It’d be hard work for sure but it’d be for himself, putting food on his own table and earning his own way. And while he waited for the right day for that to come, sprawling out on the rooftop of the Lodging House, looking up at the stars was just as good. That had plenty of space for both him and Crutchie and the freedom of being high above all the bustle and noise of the city.

 

Five more months.  Why did time always feel like it was just crawling along in the place?  A six month sentence seemed like forever. But somehow he had to keep his head.  Keep his spirit. He had to keep going. And if he was going to do that he needed to take what hours of sleep he could get.  So he finally drifted off to sleep. Falling asleep wasn’t so hard, not when he was this tired. The trick was a steady restful sleep.

 

_His dreams were filled with creeping, monster like creatures that scurried like rats and insects or latched on and coiled around his legs like snakes.  Jack tried to get away but they crawled up out of every crack in the sidewalk and dropped down from eaves above, tripping him up or landing on his head and shoulders._

 

_Then he was surrounded by figures crowding him, pressing all around until Jack could hardly move, could hardly breathe.  A crowd that pushed and shoved while small voices cried in the distance. With the crack of a whip echoing in the air it all changed.  The newsie could see a shape peering through the barred opening of the cell door. The shadowy figure had eyes that glinted in the light.  No...not eyes. Glass lenses. Specs! And then behind him came another shape, the light of the hallway revealed Racetrack. The pair struggled to pull and kick at the door.  Before Jack could even ask what they were doing here a shrill whistle sounded._

 

_“Get out!”  Jack shouted, rushing across the room.  His friends took off, followed all too closely by guards.  Gruff voices rang out as more whistles sounded. Jack could hear feet pounding all around.  They’d never get out. He could see the guards all coming from every direction. Jack tugged at the door and somehow, impossibly it opened at his touch.  Only for the floor to vanish as he stepped out and he felt himself falling, tumbling down into pitch darkness._

 

Jack jolted up from his bed with a start.  The movement earning just a few grumbles from the boys lying beside him but they remained asleep.  Catching his breath Jack glanced over at the door and then the window. Both showing nothing but complete darkness, the sliver of moonlight not even strong enough to pass through the grime covered glass.  The boys wouldn’t come. Specs and Race, they both knew this place almost as well as Jack. They knew it was too risky. Specs had snuck in to check on Jack the night after he was caught. And Jack himself had told him not to try it again, at least not for awhile.  He was lucky to have managed it that time with Snyder not entirely believing Jack came alone and the guards would being on alert and keeping an eye out for potential docking spots. There would be no delivery runs, no visits, not for a good long while anyway. And that was how it should be.  No matter how much Jack missed all the boys he never wanted to see any of them locked up in here. He knew that was a lot to ask for, kids with no folks, having to scrape by to survive, they were all too easy for Snyder the Spider to come up with an excuse to arrest them. But at the very least Jack didn’t want them getting locked up on his account.

 

They would be sleeping now.  The Lodging House beds were old too but the blankets were kept clean and the mattresses aired out regularly.  And the blankets weren’t any less warm for having patches here and there. Trying to forget his nightmares Jack tried to imagine how the newsies’ day would have gone.  He wondered what extra treat Albert ordered at Jacobi’s and if he actually had the money for it. Or what new line Romeo was trying out on the ladies and imagining the joking and rough housing that would go on while waiting for the headline to be posted.  But the effort to lift his spirits inevitably backfired as he started to worry about how they were all doing.

 

He trusted Race to hold the fort alright and in general all the newsies watched each others backs so he tried to keep telling himself they’d be fine.  But he still couldn’t help wishing he was there. Not just because he missed them. Even the past times he was here he had thought about his friends and wished he could be with them sooner.  But for the past few years now Jack had stepped into the role of leader. That meant he was responsible for them, they looked to him if things ever went wrong. With fall setting in there were good odds some of them were going to stay out in the cold and get themselves sick.  And what if gangs or some outside newsies got the idea to start moving in on their selling spots? Or if the Delancey brothers happened to be in a particularly bad mood some morning? What if Crutchie’s leg acted up one day? He wouldn’t always admit when his leg was giving him a bad day and he needed a little extra hand.  So much could crop up unexpectedly and the boys counted on Jack to know what to do and help them out of tight spots.

 

Five more months.  He had to make it, for them.  Maybe sooner- how he didn’t have a clue.  But if he got a chance to get away from this place he would take it.  He had to get back to them, as soon as he could. Either way though that meant he would have to get some sleep first.  So he let his heavy eyelids shut again. His sleep wasn’t exactly any more peaceful but it was better than nothing.


	2. Risk it All

Jack knew something was different today.  It wasn’t every day the boys were told to wash up in the morning.  Nobody usually cared if they were clean so long as they attended the lessons the city required and could get their work done.  Even stranger they actually passed out new shirts and pants to the boys’ whose current clothes had been reduced to little more than rags  Well, that explained why the week had been so demanding, Snyder the Spider couldn’t be expected to take a loss on his profits just to get decent clothes.  Though Jack wondered if the things he had been caught smuggling in here were also mixed among the new supply. Jack was pretty sure the Spider had sold the food off for his own gain but he wouldn’t put it past him to save the clothes and spare himself having to buy as many.  But it didn’t answer the question of why he chose now to have everyone freshen up. 

 

Then there was something different in the teacher and guard’s attitudes, they scolded as much as ever but Jack hadn’t seen them raise a hand to any of the kids the whole time.  But it wasn’t until the announcement that came at the end of breakfast that he found out why. They were all given off from part of the word day to listen to a speech from a special visitor, who would then also take a tour of the Refuge and meet some of the children. 

 

So now Jack sat at the very back of the largest room in the Refuge, he and the other “troublemakers” clearly having been placed where they were least likely to draw the attention of the very important guests.  The seating didn’t offer a great look but the well built man sporting a thick mustache still made for an impressive figure as he strode out to the platform. Off to the side was a small group of adults, most with notepads and pens while some others carried camera equipment.  The speaker had been introduced as Theodore Roosevelt. The name was one Jack was already familiar with. The leader of the Rough Riders fighting in the war had provided the newsies with a lot of good selling days. And apparently now that he had returned to New York he was running for governor.  Which explained the group of newspaper people he brought along. The reporters scribbled away, noting down the man’s speech and the photographer waiting to get a good picture opportunity.

 

He’d talked about all the same sort of things they always heard about working hard and being productive citizens.  Reminding them that perseverance would carry them further than short cuts and crime. Jack supposed he wasn’t wrong but considering the effort Snyder and the guards had gone to to make a good presentation he also didn’t know anything about what this jail really was like.  How the Spider would happily lock kids away just for being out in the wrong place at the wrong time or his excuses to extend sentences. Jack had to admit he had been impressed with the Rough Riders’ exploits himself and he found himself liking the boisterousness of the man, his tone more friendly and encouraging than lecturing and not acting like the children gathered to listen to him were worth less than the dirt on his shoe like some others did.

 

He couldn’t really blame the man’s ignorance of the truth.  The Spider had been at this a long time, anyone he couldn’t pay off to turn the other way he made sure never saw what it was really like in the Refuge.  And Jack wouldn’t complain about a few extra hours of not being cooped up in the Refuge’s factory rooms under the guard’s gruelling demands to keep production up.

 

But even that break had to come to an end.  As Roosevelt’s speech finished and he and his reporters followed Snyder towards a side door, the guards started to try to usher everyone out.  They were supposed to return to their normal routines while the aspiring governor took a tour of the place and met with some of the inmates, getting pictures that could be printed showing how much he cared about the orphans and wayward children of the city along the way.  Not that the Spider would leave it to chance which kids he talked to, no he would be led through the South Wing with the “better” kids and only introduced to the ones that would be shy and meek and too terrified of punishment to say anything that would show Snyder for the spider he was.  Well, the break had been nice while it lasted anyway.

 

Jack filed out of the rows of seats and had made it into the aisle when raised voices drew his attention.  Curses and a few less than flattering names mixed with the sound of scraping chairs and grunts of pain. Jack recognized one of his roomates- one that did have a habit of picking fights- not surprisingly grab another boy’s shirt before a punching him hard.  The other boy Jack didn’t think he had met but clearly could hold his own as he made a swing of his own in retaliation.

 

Before he could tell if either was gaining the upper hand Jack felt people jostling around him.  He tensed a little feeling hands on his arm, only for a boy to rush past him. Others shouldered their way closer, pressing in around the fighting pair, cheering or taunting the participants.  Not really caring who came out of the fight better off Jack tried to just get away from the press of bodies and all the people shoving and bumping into him. He had backed his way to the outer edges of the gathering audience when he noticed the guards rushing in.  They grabbed any kid in their way forcing them aside to clear a path. 

 

“Stupid brats,” one guard hissed as he passed by Jack.  “Knock it off, settle down.”

 

They were moving in fast, already two guards had made it to the center and were working on splitting the fighters while others were focused on the audience around them.  They wanted the fight broken up. But they weren’t shouting at the gathered crowd. They hadn’t even pulled out their batons. They grabbed at a few boys, seeming to try to push them back into line.  Telling them to be quiet, to get back in place. 

 

And they were  _ all _ rushing in to the chaos.  Jack stole a quick glance around to see he was just a few steps from the door to the hall.  A guard had been standing by it moments ago, waiting for the kids to line up before letting them out.  But that guard was now among the others breaking the fight up, leaving the door clear. 

 

Jack’s feet were moving before he had even processed his own thoughts.  He quickly slipped out the door and into the hall. He could still hear the raised voices of the boys, and possibly a few girls getting in on the entertainment, and sounds of movement but by comparison the hall was quiet and still.  Jack could feel his heart beating faster. He had just left the room. The guards hadn’t noticed, he didn’t even think any of the other kids had noticed.

 

If he had any chance of getting out of this Hell of a place it was now.  He whirled around knowing the moment of peace wouldn’t last long. The guards would get everyone back in line and then they would be sending them to their workshops or to cells if they were really upset about the fight.  His gaze landed on one of the classroom doors just across the hall and reaching for the handle was relieved to find it unlocked. He went inside the classroom, carefully closing the door behind him. So he had bought himself a few extra moments, at least he wouldn’t be spotted as soon as the guards stepped out into the hall.

 

But sooner or later they would notice he was gone.  Jack knew what the standard routine would be if someone was discovered to be missing.  Alarms would be raised and every guard would be on high alert, sweeping the buildings and being posted on any possible exit.  Routines were how Snyder kept his web woven tight, making sure no one slipped out. Jack had been locked up in here enough times to have worked that out.  

 

But today was different.  Today there was guests that weren’t inspectors who would be impressed to see how well Snyder had things in hand.  It was a gamble but Jack was hoping Snyder would want to handle a runaway incident quietly and not have to worry about how Roosevelt might feel about his methods.  So no alarms, no sending everyone back to their cells, no big search parties. But that just meant he’d be all the more angry at anyone who came close to embarrassing him by trying to escape now.

 

_ Then I’d better make sure I actually make it out, _ Jack told himself.  He crossed the room to the window on the far side just as he could hear footsteps passing by in the hall.  There wasn’t much time. Gripping the window sash he managed to get the worn and slightly warped wood open with just a few tugs.  Though it clearly wasn’t maintained the classrooms all had easy access to the fire escapes- prisoners weren’t supposed to ever be in them them alone and it was an easy way for Snyder to make it look like he cared about their safety.  So sure enough he was able to climb through and step out onto the metal platform of the fire escape.

 

Jack quickly made his way down to the ground, his mind racing as he tried to work out a plan on the fly.  A few teams would be sent outside to work on groundskeeping while the rest were sent to their chores and work inside.  Jack pressed himself close to the wall, sheltered underneath the lowest level of the fire escape. Once he started crossing the grounds he would be exposed, not just to the grounds crews but if anyone happened to glance out a window at the wrong moment they’d spot him for sure.  And while he was counting on the visitors changing the routine enough to keep his escape handled quietly it also added the challenge of not knowing where Roosevelt would be shown first on his tour.

 

But figuring getting a move on before anyone got outside and while everyone was hopefully making their way through the halls or settling in at work stations was his best bet Jack wasted no more time.  He sprinted across the ground, darting between what sheltered spots he could find, like wood piles or trees with branches that still had a fair amount of red and yellowing leaves taking what cover he could.

  
  


Jack’s heart pounded as he made the series of short dashes from one source of cover to the next. He only really paused behind a shed to catch his breath.  The stretch ahead would be the longest yet and potentially most exposed. Jack could hardly believe he was actually doing this and his blood pounded with adrenaline.  He was so close...so close to either freedom or the absolute worst punishment the Spider had ever dished out.

 

He peered around the weathered wood of the structure.  Off in the distance a small group of boys were just now being led out to the recreation grounds where they probably would start working on weeding and raking.  All under the supervision of some guards of course, but nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. So they must have no idea that he was missing. He glanced over at the large brick building, the source of all his nightmares.  Had they noticed that he wasn’t among the group being sent to the workshops? He didn’t hear any whistles blowing so he decided to take that as a good sign. It meant he either hadn’t been missed yet or his gamble was proving right.

 

Taking a deep breath Jack turned his attention ahead.  The next stretch though was along an open stretch of the walkway.  From his current hiding spot he could see the back and side wall of the carriage house.  He would have to make it past that and then out the main gate. Once he was out there... Well, he would figure that out once he found a safe spot out there.  Maybe there would be a small boat he could take across. Swimming was definitely not ideal but if it was what it took to get out of this place he might still consider it.

 

It was now or never.  He darted out from behind the shed running towards the back of the carriage house.  Not wanting to risk someone from the workroom windows seeing him he quickly moved to the far side of the building, tucking himself in the shadow of its eaves and ensuring the large structure would be between him and the Refuge building itself.

 

He crept along the side still tense and alert with nerves and adrenaline.  And a good thing too, when he realized he heard low voices towards the front of the building.  Jack’s heart froze as he realized someone must be standing at the front of the carriage house the whole time.  So far they couldn’t have seen him if they were standing at the doors but they definitely would see him if he made a run for the last stretch of his escape.  Then to make matters worse he heard the sound of shuffling feet.

 

He quickly backtracked, crossing back along the side and tucking himself behind the back of the carriage house.  He pressed his back close against the wood, holding his breath and desperately hoping he hadn’t been spotted..

 

“What was that?”  A gruff voice sounded.  Jack had to bite back a curse, not daring to make a sound.

 

_ No, no, nononono. _  The teen half expected his heartbeat to betray him it felt like it was pounding so hard.  He looked around for anywhere to go, anywhere to hide.

 

“What?”  A second voice asked.

 

“Thought I saw something.  C’mon, better check.”

 

_ There! _  Just above his head was a window, it didn’t seem to have any glass panes and the shutters had been left open.  It was a little high and small, probably only intended to let in light for work to be done inside. But Jack had always been on the thin side, and that was before a month of eating little more than scraps.  Jumping up Jack managed to grab hold of the windowsill.

 

“Probably just a bird or something.  What do you think, a carriage up and left on it’s own?”  The second voice said.

 

“Didn’t look like a bird, just quit griping and go ‘round the other side.”

 

No stranger to heavy lifting and with the added motivation of knowing what awaited him if he was caught out here Jack managed to pull himself up.  His feet scraped against the wooden beams trying to find purchase before he finally managed to squeeze his thin frame through the window and dropping down to the floor inside the building.  He tried to keep his landing as quiet as possible allowing himself to sit with his back up against the wall. He listened as hard as he could as he waited to find out if he had been spotted or not.  He could feel his limbs shaking as his breaths came quick, Jack wasn’t sure if it was from the strain of running and having just lifted himself up or fear of being caught now after making it so far. He preferred to think it was just the first option.

 

“See, what did I tell ya?”  The second voice from earlier taunted.  “Nothing but you imagining things.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re real smart,” the other replied.  

 

Jack finally let himself relax as he heard the sound of footsteps and their banter grew more distant.  He sat still for a few moments, breathing heavily after his mad dash across the grounds and the close call.  Slowly the full reality of his situation sank in. 

 

He was inside one of the Refuge outbuildings.  There were at least two- quite possibly more people gathered around the front and only door.  Even if he went back out the window those same people would have an easy view of him if he tried to continue on.  Jack was stuck. And if he didn’t think of something he was going to get caught.

 

And if that happened Jack would be in for the worst beating he’d ever gotten- which would be saying something.  And then either left hanging by his thumbs or locked in solitary confinement for who knew how long. He shook his head with a scowl, thinking like that wasn’t going to help anything.  He wasn’t caught yet which meant he could still come up with a way out of here. So instead of what ifs he turned his focus to his current surroundings.

 

The carriage house was one place Jack had actually never been inside before but as far as he knew the place usually just had the horses and wagons that the Refuge used to transport kids when they were arrested.  Jack was all too familiar with the large enclosed wagons that stood at the far side of the space. But in the center was an open space with an unfamiliar carriage. It definitely wasn’t the buggy that Snyder had for his personal use so it must have been the one Roosevelt and the others came in. 

 

It wasn’t the gaudiest he had seen passing by on the streets of New York but looked well made as Jack rose to his feet and approached the carriage.  It had to be well cared for, the outside kept clean with only a few small splashes of mud that had probably only been picked up in the last few days or even just from the Refuge’s own roads.  Inside was lined in purple trim with blue cushions all around that matched the one on the driver’s seat. Even the glass on the lanterns that were fixed on either side of the driver’s bench still seemed pretty clear of any soot or scorch marks.  

 

An impressive carriage for sure but it didn’t offer anything helpful.  He couldn’t exactly go charging out of the place on a carriage with no horses hitched up to it.  Never mind even with horses it wouldn’t help him get off of an island. At least the fact that they must have put the horses in the stables meant there wasn’t any reason for someone to check in here until the end of the visit.  Whenever that might be.

 

He made his way around the room passing by harnesses and other equipment hanging from nails on the walls.  There was a work table with coarse brushes and some jars of cleaning supplies scattered on it. Beside that was a shelf, a couple of driver’s whips hung from a nail beside it but Jack’s gaze quickly moved past them.  A pile of small rectangular wooden boxes, their longest sides no more than a foot with thin pieces of wood that slid into place to close were on the edge of the first shelf. Opening one revealed a few candles for lanterns and a separate square at the bottom with a cluster of matches.  Assuming the others were the same he turned his attention to a larger metal box held closed with a simple latch. He opened it to find an assortment of tools. He picked up a few, rummaging in the box a little but nothing stood out as particularly useful for his current problem.

 

Moving on Jack spotted a few crates and chests up against the wall to the other side.  Opening the first few he found some larger tools and what might have been spare parts for the wagons.  There were still a few crates underneath the ones he checked but considering how heavy the equipment in them was the newsie was reluctant to move them around too much.  If the guards were still hanging around the area the sound of a lot of heavy things being moved around might draw their attention. And most likely they were just more of the lesser used tools and supplies anyway. 

 

Jack gave a small huff, glancing around once more but still nothing stood out to him.  Normally he was good at finding a way to make do with whatever he could find but he was starting to feel nervous that the carriage house might really be a dead end.  Getting out in itself wasn’t a huge problem, he could jump to the window or even use some boxes to help him. But if guards were permanently stationed in the area he wouldn’t make it much farther.  And while he was banking on Snyder wanting to keep an escape attempt quiet he had no delusions of the spider just letting Jack get away without any effort. As soon as Jack’s absence was noticed he would at the very least have word passed around from guard to guard to keep an eye out and watch the most likely escape routes.

 

And it didn’t help that with the urgency of slipping away and darting from cover to cover faded all the energy he had spent was starting to catch up with him.  Beneath his shirt he knew he was still sporting a few bruises from the last time he had mouthed off to one of the guards that were still sore. Not to mention that while normally a short sprint and even climbing in the window might not have taken too much out of him after weeks of even less, and worse quality, food than he was used to combined with restless sleep it was taking a toll.

 

He felt cornered and he didn’t like it.  Just staying here was asking for trouble but leaving was not so easy either.  He slowly walked over to the door, leaning close to the wood to press his ear against it.  He thought he could hear something but it was so indistinct that he couldn’t be sure. Were people outside chatting together or was it just his imagination?  Did he dare risk it was a better question. Even just opening the door a crack could give him away if anyone was standing nearby. For all he knew it might even be locked from the outside and he wasn’t going to go rattling it to find out.

 

Deciding that he was definitely hearing something he gave up on that idea.  Turning back towards the window he considered that option. It had been a tight squeeze but doable.  But then what? The route he had planned to take would still bring him around the front of the carriage house.  He could back track a bit and hope to find a break in the wall but now that the groundskeeping teams were out and well under way with their work that would be a lot harder.

 

Jack wasn’t sure how long he spent pacing around the carriage house, too agitated to sit still.  He continued to rummage through a few things, as quietly as possible, hoping something would finally spark an idea for him.  

 

They’d been given a bigger than usual breakfast this morning- Jack assumed as a precaution in case their guests arrived sooner than expected or asked someone what they had that morning.  But even so Jack was starting to feel hunger creeping up on him. Nothing he couldn’t ignore but it did mean time was passing. The room had been getting steadily darker though Jack was sure it could only be early afternoon at the latest.  Which meant the clouds he had seen this morning were probably getting thicker. How long was the visit supposed to last? Sooner or later though someone was going to come in here. Whether actually searching for Jack or just because it was time for Roosevelt to leave.  In the latter case he could probably hide somewhere among the equipment but that wouldn’t help once they started a thorough search of the grounds and outbuildings. Which they probably would do as soon as the visitors were gone anyway.

 

If only he could be gone by then.  But to do that he would have to get out of the carriage house unnoticed which despite being a room full of things for transportation didn’t seem to have a lot of exit options.

 

Unless…

 

In a moment Jack had whirled around, taking a few steps closer to the black and purple carriage.  He eyed the vehicle from top to bottom with a new burst of energy at the chance of actually having a way out.  The Spider would have to admit something was wrong if he wanted to his guards to be allowed to inspect the carriage and any effort to stall Roosevelt leaving wouldn’t go over well either.  He began circling around the carriage, the light was significantly dimmer now but he could still make out the main parts. In fact the shadows might work to his advantage though he hoped it wouldn’t start to actually rain.

 

Obviously just riding normally wasn’t an option.  He glanced upward to the top. But judging by the height of the driver’s seat the guy would have to be pretty oblivious not to notice a sixteen year old laying on the top of the carriage.  He had seen kids catch rides on the backs of things like this and the hitch bar across the back did look like it could hold Jack if it needed to. But it would also leave him totally visible to everyone they passed.  He crouched down between the two back wheels, looking at the underside. Now the lack of sunlight was a bit annoying, making it harder for him to make sense of all the different parts. The fact that he never had reason to be looking this close up at a carriage before not helping anything.

 

But there were definitely a few parts that he could probably grab onto.  Maybe even hook his legs over too. Jack frowned a little, he moved his hand along a few of the separate parts giving some experimental tugs to see what moved and what didn’t.  It was supporting the weight of the carriage so it all had to be pretty strong. Right? Deciding that it seemed like the best option he had Jack sat down at the back of the carriage, pulling his legs in close to try to be as small as possible.  He had to stay close if he was going to be able to get himself on quickly but some work would have to be done up front to hitch the horses up so the back seemed the safest place to stay for now.

  
Now he would just have to wait and hope for the best.   _ If I make it outta this I ain’t ever gonna be able to tell Race off for taking long shot bets _ , he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if some parts of this chapter seem a bit slow but I felt like Jack needed to be able to explore some options before getting the idea to sneak on the carriage. I will also admit I am not familiar with horses or carriage workings and didn't have much luck finding sources that helped with this situation so hopefully nothing is too unrealistic. Thank you so much for all the feedback and I hope you'll continue to enjoy the story (I promise I'll be getting to the actual ride next chapter).
> 
> I'm pretty sure the story will be either 3 or 4 chapters total, I'm just still debating whether I want to do something of how the story of Jack's escape gets around. Part of it will just depend on how I feel about the conclusion but I'm open to thoughts on whether that's something people would be interested in or not.


	3. Dangerous Crossing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience with this chapter, real life took up a lot of time with one thing coming after another. But the final chapter hopefully won't be too long of a wait. Comments/feedback and kudos are always appreciated so please let me know what you think.

**** It was hard to say how much time passed though Jack was sure it was at least another hour or two.  He sat with his legs drawn up close to himself, occasionally fidgeting or rolling his shoulders to try and shake the stiffness of staying still so long.  He spent a few stretches of time, not quite sleeping, but letting himself rest with his head braced against his knees and eyes closed. Every so often he heard voices drift in through the open window or the creak of wood as someone moved or perhaps leaned on the doors of the carriage house but nothing distinct enough to give him an idea of what was going on.  Had anyone been sent to search for him? There was no way his absence hadn’t been noticed by now.  

 

Jack had never been very good at doing nothing at all.  He didn’t mind slowing down and enjoying a moment here and there, especially because the chances to do so were so rare.  But even in those moments there was something to do or focus on. He could keep his hands busy with a sketch of whatever popped into his head or strike up a conversation with someone around him.  In the Lodging House the boys could rough house or play cards and entertain each other. Even the Refuge’s recreation time encouraged the children to be active and get exercise. But here he didn’t have any scrap paper on him and the cloud covered sky barely let enough light in to draw by even if he had.  And he couldn’t wander around and explore more of the space or fiddle with the tools if he wanted to be ready to follow through with his idea. So he remained tucked close to the wheel, trying to make himself as small as possible.

 

Finally he heard the sound of latches being lifted and the door outside shifting.  Instantly his head perked up and he pressed himself in even closer before focusing on keeping completely still.  Jack held his breath as the doors creaked open, his ears perked up to try and gage who was coming and where they would be moving towards.  The sound of a snort piqued his curiosity enough to bend his head just slightly looking underneath the carriage. He could see the legs of at least two men, each walking in front of a horse, probably leading them.  The newsie could feel his heart pounding as he watched the heavy hooves and dark legs of the horses take their positions in front of the carriage and the men moved around to get the animals hitched up. All the while he prayed they wouldn’t have reason to look to the back of the carriage where he hid.  

 

Waiting had been hard.  Spending who knew how long just sitting wondering if this would work and hating that he couldn’t actually  _ do _ anything to make it work for the time being had been maddening.  But that had been nothing compared to now having to stay absolutely still, curled up in the shadow of the carriage as small as he could get.  He listened to the sounds of the horses being hitched up the two men telling each other to hold this or get that ready.  

 

“All set, then.  The Colonel’s tour will end by the main entrance, won’t it?”  One of the men’s voices asked.

 

“Right,” the other man replied.  “Same road you took in this morning.”

 

Seeing one pair of feet start making their way to the side of the carriage to step up to the driver’s seat Jack quickly scooted under the base of the carriage.  His eyes scanned all the different parts in the dim light before reaching up to grab part of the large carriage’s supports and pulled himself up, tucking his legs up on one of the other bars and wrapping his arms around the supports, holding himself as close as he could get.  Moments later he felt the carriage shift a little as the driver climbed on. He would have to be careful, if he felt that movement then most likely anyone on the carriage would feel if he let go or even shifted around too much.  _ You’re gettin’ out out of this hell hole, _ he told himself.   _ Just hang on, you can do it. _

 

Jack clung to the underside of the carriage as it bounced along the dirt road that traveled back to the very same building he had sprinted away from this morning.  He tried to keep his focus on just keeping his grip and holding as still as he possibly could. Going back was annoying but of course they wouldn’t make Colonel Roosevelt and the newspapermen walk all the way so the carriage had to go back and get them.  Jack pulled himself up as close as he could and sent up a silent prayer that no one waiting there would look too closely at the bottom of the carriage.

 

He heard the flick of the reins as the driver gave a call urging the horses on.  Soon enough they were on their way, the carriage rolling out of the carriage house and plodding along Randall Island’s rough roads.  Jack held tight to the bars with all his strength trying to keep himself steady despite the way the carriage bounced along the uneven road.  He had never known the ride to be comfortable when he was locked up in the back of the Refuge wagons bringing new inmates in. But hanging on the bottom like this was a whole new level of uncomfortable.

 

Jack was so focused on just keeping his grip he didn’t even realize they had made it to the Refuge’s main complex until they were stopped right in front of the building.  From his angle Jack could only see the legs and feet of the men waiting for the carriage. And tilting his head he could see up ahead the wheels of what looked like Snyder’s personal buggy.  

 

The newsie tried to hold still as much as he could, not wanting even the slightest movement to draw attention to where he hung from the bottom of the carriage, as the feet moved around.  He could hear the men’s voices talking.  

 

“Mayor Van Wyck and I have been working closely to keep up the professionalism you instilled in the city’s law enforcement…”  Snyder was rambling on but Jack tuned out whatever lies about reform and professionalism Snyder was spinning. He vaguely remembered the papers talking about Roosevelt’s appointment as Police Commissioner before the war under the previous mayor, William Strong.  The current mayor didn’t seem to be as interested in reform and weeding out corruption to Jack and was definitely on too good terms with Snyder for the newsie to trust. But of course he’d be putting a positive angle on it for the upcoming governor.

 

Instead Jack’s eyes tracked after the trousers and shoes that looked like the Spider’s until they had moved off towards the buggy.  Meanwhile two other pairs of well made shoes and tailored pants stepped up into the carriage. Jack could feel the whole thing shift with their weight as the two men climbed inside and settled in their seats.  

 

He caught some low voices discussing how to load camera equipment and keep it from moving around too much.  And then the different pairs of legs split up. Snyder and one of the reporters went over to the warden’s buggy while Roosevelt and another reporter got into his carriage.  The last set of feet, the photographer if Jack remembered who was who from the speech, climbed up to the front of the carriage to sit with the driver.

 

With a flick of the reins they were off again, Roosevelt’s carriage riding behind Snyder’s.  Jack could already feel the strain in his arms and legs from holding himself up but he had to ignore it.  This was his one chance to get out of this place and he wasn’t going to pass it up. The carriage bounced along the rutted road the way it had come.  Jack wondered if Colonel Roosevelt visiting the Refuge would warrant the front page or if it would be somewhere further in tomorrow’s paper. Would it mean extra sales for the newsies?  With a little more luck he would get a chance to see or even sell the papers reporting on this visit himself.

 

Jack gripped the bars tighter, when the horses slowed to a stop and the driver stepped down from his place.  Jack craned his head to try and figure out what was happening and realized they were right near the dock. His eyes tracked the driver’s feet as they moved towards the horses and then he began leading them forward.  And then the carriage rolled onto the ferry. Even knowing it was coming his grip almost slipped as the wheels struck the slightly raised lip of the gangplank. Luckily the clatter of the movement and the sound of the waves lapping at the ferry and shore covered his gasp as he clung tighter and braced himself. 

 

All along the sides of the ferry were boys seated in front of oars, other prisoners from the Refuge.  Most were around Jack’s age, old and strong enough to serve as rowers for the ferry. It was hard work but still reserved for the boys Snyder trusted not to speak out of turn and to follow orders.  Which made them a bit of a mixed group. Some got here just by keeping their head’s down and waiting out their sentences patiently. Others by snitching and helping Snyder and the guards whenever they saw the opportunity.  Getting spotted by one of them could be as bad as by any of the adults.

 

The carriage and buggy were settled in the center though Jack could still feel the movement of the boat as it bobbed in the waves.  And it would probably be more dramatic once they got away from the dock and into the rushing waters. It wouldn’t be easy to keep holding on in the rocking but at least if he did slip or need to adjust the movement would be disguised.  

 

An order was given and the ferry pushed off.  It dipped and tilted in rhythm with the waves as the boys rowed at a steady pace.   _ Just a little further. _   That wasn’t really true but somehow telling himself that made it seem a little easier to keep holding on.  The river was wide and then… then there would still be further to go. Jack would have to figure out when to get off.  How to get off. But he had to focus on one step at a time. So he focused on just getting across the river. Getting onto free ground.

 

The movement was different now.  A rocking back and forth rather than jouncing and jolting over stones and broken earth.  Strangely though Jack almost found it worse. The more consistent and less extreme movement meant less need to focus on keeping his grip.  Instead all he could think of was the discomfort. His arms trembled with the effort to keep holding himself up, aching with the strain. Looking for any distraction he tried to listen for anything going on.  The rhythmic splash of the oars, lapping of the waves as he felt the ferry rock back and forth. He could hear low voices too, now that the clatter of turning wheels bumping along on rocky ground had stopped. Then he heard a deep rumble of thunder, it sounded like it was a fair distance away but although Jack couldn’t see the sky everything had been slowly getting darker.  

 

“Think the storm will hold off?”  A voice asked.

 

“We’ll make it to shore before the storm reaches us,” that Jack recognized as Snyder, no doubt used to how long the crossing took.  In a way Jack was too, but the ride felt a lot different while using what felt like every muscle in his body to hold himself up than it did while sitting in the back of an enclosed wagon.  “But you may be riding home in the rain.”

 

Hopefully Snyder’s confidence meant they were almost there.  Jack allowed himself to shift just a little trying to find some relief from holding up his own weight.  But the movement caused him to slip slightly, falling just a few inches lower before he managed to steady himself.  Before he could pull himself back up though he froze as his gaze fell on another pair of eyes. Staring straight into his own.

 

One of the rowers had seen him and was now staring in shock.  He was thin but with enough muscle and a tan to suggest he had been on the rowing crew for awhile.   For a moment all Jack could do was stare in return feeling frozen. The boy seemed familiar but with the rush of panic and being spotted, his aching muscles, tiredness and exhaustion he couldn’t remember any interactions with him.  Maybe they had just crossed paths here and there while in the Refuge?

 

Jack could feel his panic rising.  He couldn’t offer any incentive for the boy to cover for him and he would be in big trouble if it was found out later that he knew Jack was there and said nothing.  But then rather than speak up the boy simply turned his attention back to the oar, falling into the rhythm of the other rowers. Though he stole a quick last glance out the corner of his eye to Jack.

 

The newsie mouthed a quick but sincere  _ thank you _ before slipping his arms back into a better position, pulling himself close to the base of the carriage again.  Finally though he heard voices calling for ropes and then the ferry was knocking lightly against the beams of the dock.  He had made it across the river, he was really off of Randall’s Island.

 

The rush of excitement and hope that this plan might just work out helped Jack push past the building exhaustion and strain to hang on as the driver led the horses forward and over the ramp to the wooden dock.  He led the horses just a short distance away, the sound of a second set of hooves and wheels meaning Snyder’s buggy was coming along as well. They went as far as the end of the dock where a few other carriages waited under a sheltered spot.  The carriage shifted and bounced as the passengers inside moved above Jack. Roosevelt and the reporter stepped out as the photographer climbed down from the driver’s seat. Jack watched, holding his breath as multiple pairs of legs gathered together.

 

“Thank you for allowing us to cover this visit, Colonel Roosevelt.”  A voice Jack assumed belonged to one of the newspaper men said. “I’m sure our readers will be excited to learn about your interest in the provisions for the city’s less fortunate children.”

 

“Of course.  And awfully good of Mr. Snyder here taking the time to show us all around,” the booming voice of Roosevelt sounded.  “I’ve got some ideas to hopefully keep young people in school and away from crime but ensuring that they’re still getting education and trade skills in the meantime is comforting.”

 

Jack could almost have laughed at the idea of the Snyder supporting anything that meant less children caught in his web.  But he was sure the Spider smiled nicely, the position of their feet suggesting they were standing close enough to shake hands.

 

“Thank you, Colonel.”  Snyder replied. “Always a pleasure to know that our efforts here are appreciated.  I do my best with the resources the city provides, no expense is too great when it comes to setting our future generations on the right path.”

 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Roosvelt agreed as thunder rumbled once again, sounding closer this time.  “And improving things for them and the rest of the hardworking people of New York is just what I intend to do. If the voters will have me, of course.”

 

“Considering how highly Senator Platt speaks of you I think there’s a good chance of that,” Snyder said.  “I’ve worked with him long enough to know he has good instincts.”

 

“I certainly intend to make a good go at it,” Roosevelt replied.  “But I won’t keep you gentleman out any longer. No sense in everyone getting too soaked for this trip.”  Sure enough there were a few specs of rain appearing on the ground around the carriage and judging by the thunder Jack expected it would be getting heavier quickly.

 

With a few more goodbyes and some shuffling around to shake hands and make sure all the camera equipment was accounted for all of the men returned to their respective vehicles.  And then with the sound of rain striking against the paved streets Jack realized he was truly out of the Refuge. He was back on the streets of New York City… hanging onto the bottom of the likely soon to be governor.  

 

_ Now what? _   He had to get off, that was for sure.  But he had to make sure he wouldn’t be noticed doing so.  No matter what it would be a little bit of a gamble- from his position he couldn’t see whether or not any people walking along the streets or up in the nearby buildings might be watching.  But he could try to choose a moment when the driver was least likely to notice a change.

 

The carriage jolted over rough patches of road and cracked pavement, splashing up water and mud on Jack.  Soaking into his clothes and splattering him with even more dirt than he had already. All the while his muscles still screamed for relief from holding himself up like this.  He needed to get off.

 

And finally his moment came.  The sound of young voices shouting and laughing grew more distinct over the constant chatter and noises of the city.  The carriage quickly came to a stop at a crossing.

 

They were at an intersection and Jack could see a cluster of small shoes rushing forward to cross the street.  A group of children rushing home to get out of the rain. Jack waited until the leaders of the pack were streaming by the carriage when he let go, his back hit the road hard but he ignored the pain and scrambled to climb out from under the carriage at the back.

 

“Careful there!”  The driver called over his shoulder, thinking the shift of the carriage was one of the children bumping into it.  

 

But Jack was already falling in step with the last few stragglers of the group.  They looked like school kids, the storm hitting just as they were headed home. Any other day Jack might have stood out in his tattered and stained clothes but with hats pulled low or jackets pulled up over their heads, they didn’t even seem to notice that he wasn’t one of their classmates.  Or if they did they were more concerned about getting somewhere dry than wondering where the extra kid had come from.

 

Keeping track of where they were had been difficult under the carriage but Jack had grown up in this city.  He’d spent years hawking headlines across the island of Manhattan. So it didn’t take long to figure out where he was.  So he veered off around the next block, breaking away from the kids to run, albeit stumbling a little as his legs wobbled beneath him.  Given how difficult it was to just run in a straight line he knew he wouldn’t make it to the Lodging House. But there was somewhere a little closer where he could always lie low.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some historical context for this chapter:
> 
> William Strong was mayor of New York from 1895-97 and did a lot of work towards reform and breaking away from the corruption. This included appointing Roosevelt as Police Commissioner where he also was noted for fighting corruption.
> 
> Robert Anderson Van Wyck succeeded Strong as mayor and was largely considered the opposite of his predecessor being easily swayed to go along with Tammany Hall's wishes and letting them run the city. He would also have been mayor at the time of the strike.
> 
> Senator Thomas Platt was considered the "boss" of the Republican party in New York. He and Roosevelt didn't actually see eye to eye due to Platt's corruption and preference for a governor he could keep under his thumb (something Roosevelt's strong personality and history for reform work clashed with). But he recognized the need for a strong and popular candidate in order to keep the party in power so he did encourage Roosevelt to run.
> 
> As there is no historical record of a Warden Snyder at the time around the strike his implied connection to Platt is me taking some creative license but given that the play shows him and Mayor Van Wyck seeming to be on good terms in the scene in Pulitzer's office and his getting away with running the Refuge as he does it seemed plausible that he would have ties to Tammany Hall and other powerful figures in New York's corrupt political circles.


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this final chapter took so long but graduate school took over all my time. Thank you to everyone who has still followed it and for all the kudos and comments, they truly are a big help in keeping up my motivation when time and other responsibilities don't allow for much to get done. 
> 
> In writing this whole fic I developed some ideas about how Jack got caught bringing clothes and food into the Refuge. I won't make promises about it happening any time soon but please let me know if anyone would be interested in reading a sort of prequel to this about that incident. Thanks again and hope you enjoy the conclusion!

It was the first deep sleep Jack had managed since he got locked up. A long overdue rest and his exhaustion finally complete enough that not even nightmares could find him in it. But he was suddenly pulled out of it at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. Before he was even fully awake Jack flinched back, eyes flying open and senses on alert as he hurriedly moved away until his back came against a wall.

“It’s just me, Jack. You’re ok,” a gentle voice spoke as Jack’s surroundings came into focus. He felt a little chilled, probably because of his still somewhat damp clothes. He was on a cot and standing in front of him was none other than Medda Larkin. She was dressed in a simpler outfit than her performances, probably just having come in to start getting things ready for the day. Her hand hovered a little in front of her...the touch Jack had felt. She offered a warm smile but Jack could see a hint of concern in her eyes.

“Miss Medda,” Jack breathed, his shoulders relaxing as he registered he was in Medda Larkin’s theatre. As the sleep cleared from his head memories of what happened came back to him. Colonel Roosevelt’s visit, hitching a ride on the carriage. He’d really done it! He’d escaped from the Refuge. And then he’d ran to the closest safe place he could think of, Medda’s theatre.

“What are you doing here?” She asked. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m always happy to see you but the boys didn’t think you’d be out of the Refuge for at least another few months.”

“Turns out Colonel Roosevelt’s already makin’ good on those promises to help out the orphans and kids in the city.” Jack could feel the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as he said the words aloud, making it even more real. He was out of the Refuge. He escaped the Refuge. “Everyone made such a big fuss ‘bout him visiting I slipped out and hitched a ride with him on his way out.”

“You broke out?” Medda’s eyes were wide with surprise and if Jack didn’t know her so well he might have missed the brief look of worry. But that was soon replaced with a fond look. “You never cease to amaze, kid” she said with a grin and a shake of her head. 

“Hope it’s ok I came here,” Jack added a little hesitantly. Medda had been willing to bend her no kids rule for him since he ducked into the theatre, hungry and sporting some injuries, afraid to get accused of vagrancy again. But that was always just dodging getting grabbed by the Spider or getting away from a fight. Hiding out when he was now technically an escaped convict might be a little different. “Didn’t think I could make it back to the Lodgining House.”

“I always say no better place to escape your troubles than the theatre,” she assured him. “Now what do you say we get you cleaned up and I bet you could do with a hot meal?” Medda added.

“That sounds great,” Jack replied, suddenly very aware of his empty stomach and sore muscles as he stiffly pushed himself off the cot. “I owe ya one, Miss Medda.”

“I’ll take a hug and call it even,” she smiled, holding her arms open but waiting for Jack to move forward before wrapping him in a quick hug. He was still chilled, aching, and starving but Jack couldn’t help but think how good it felt to be out of the Refuge.

\------

“Just hanging there?!”

“Keep it down, will ya,” Ned hissed at Green. “You wants the whole Refuge to hear?”

Green quickly cast a nervous glance around the shadowy room but all the shapes of boys huddling beneath thin blankets remained mostly still. Everyone was still pretty wiped out making up for the missed work not only while Colonel Roosevelt visited but then the lock down that had followed when Snyder returned to be told that one of the boys had gone missing. Ned had intended to keep quiet about what he saw on the ferry but Green just kept going on and on about his theories and questions about what could have happened Ned had blurted it out hoping he would just shut it and go to sleep. He probably should have known the chatterbox wouldn’t be satisfied with just that.

“Yes, Kelly was just hangin’ off the bottom of the Colonel’s carriage.” Ned explained, shifting to try to find a comfortable spot. He knew he was lucky to only have to share the bed with one person but it could still get cramped. Green was one of the tallest boys in their room and both he and Ned were broad shouldered and muscular thanks to hard work. Which meant there wasn’t much room left for anyone else to squeeze into the bed and they were intimidating enough that few ever tried to fight them out of their spots.

“I bet Snyder would’ve put you on lighter duty for the rest of your time if ya had called him out,” Green mused.

“I aint a snitch,” Ned replied, jabbing his elbow into Green’s side. “Besides, I owed him one.”

“How’s that? He ain’t ever been in this section- Jack Kelly’s never been too good at keeping his head down.”

“Ya got that right, even if it’d be for his own good.” Ned replied. “I dunno if he’d call it in or not. But back in my first time in here it was a real bad winter. It was so cold I could barely get my fingers to work at the factory machines and the guards said not working fast enough was disrespectful and had my rations cut ‘till I ‘made a effort’ to reform. On top of that a bad cough was goin’ around too. Then one night, Jack slips into the window and he’s passin’ out bread and a jar of pickles. The bread weren’t even moldy or nothing, just clean white loaves. Even gave us some new blankets and socks too. Don’t get me wrong- waltzing back in this place when he was out’s one of the stupidest things a fella could do. But I don’t think I’d’ve made it through that winter if he hadn’t so letting him get out if he could seems like the least I could do.”

\-------

 

Jack was no stranger to making do with little but the sun had long since sunk too low for even him to draw by. And high up on the Lodging House roof only the faintest glow of street lamps and other buildings reached him, just enough to vaguely make out the shape of charcoal horses galloping over the headlines of yesterday’s newspaper. But the sketches had at least given him something to do long enough to see the first wave of newsies making their way back from selling the evening editions. He knew the boys were right that he shouldn’t be out on the streets- that it was the same thing he’d tell any of them if they had just escaped the Refuge, especially as dramatically as what he’d done. But that didn’t make sitting around doing nothing any easier. He hated being cooped up. He’d been cooped up for nearly a month already he wanted to be out on the street going where he wanted when he wanted. He didn’t want to cut too deep into his savigns. And he especially didn’t want any of the other boys to start thinking about paying for his meals or anything else. 

At least his escape had given the boys plenty of good business for the past few days. Some had been skeptical when he made his way to the Lodging House from Medda’s and told them about his escape. Any doubts they had though had been quickly dismissed the next day when the headlines were full of the shocking escape from the Refuge coinciding with Colonel Roosevelt’s visit. As Jack got to his feet and went over to the ladder to head down and greet the boys he couldn’t help a small satisfied smirk imagining Snyder facing the flood of reporters questions. Officials questioning if he and his staff had been too caught up in the visit to maintain proper security. Was he really qualified if he couldn’t make one little visit go smoothly? A few papers even proposed an investigation to see where all the good taxpayers money was going if something like this could happen.

The downside of course was all the quotes about Snyder assuring the public that efforts to find “the fugitive” were already underway and that he was conducting his own investigation into what happened. Not to mention every paper now printing a description of Jack with offers or rewards for anyone with information about finding him. The last thing he needed was to sell a paper only to have the customer go around and tell the Spider where his selling spots were.

As he reached the bottom of the ladder and slipped inside the fire escape window into the hall Jack quickly followed the sound of the newsies voices as they gathered in the lounge. “Good sellin’ day?” He called out as he stepped inside. 

“Sure was,” Racetrack nodded. “Lots of good stories to work with tonight. Didn’t even need to use yours to get folks’ attention.”

“Done with already?” Jack asked, trying to keep his voice casual even as he felt a little rush of hope. The distinctive sound of footsteps combined with the tap of a crutch had him turning to see Crutchie standing in the doorway.

“I wouldn’t say done yet. They still got ya on the back pages,” he said. “But that Empress assassination’s definitely got most of the attention now.”

“They’s saying the anarchists might even still have some members here in New York. Sold half my papes on that story alone.” Racetrack added around the cigar in his mouth.

“Ah, that ain’t the best bit,” Romeo piped up. “The ladies are all scramblin’ for descriptions of what wreaths and flowers the crowned heads of Europe are sending. And then the Emperor talkin’ about his grief and all that. Sorry, Jack, you ain’t got nothing on that pretty Empress and tragic romance.”

“Well, guess there’s no competein’ with royalty, that’s it for my being famous,” Jack replied with feigned disappointment. Of course everyone knew how eager he was to be out again. And part of Jack wondered if the Spider wasn’t pulling some strings to get the story to blow over. He already had plenty of eyes out on the city looking for previous prisoners or any kid they could pin some crime on. But requests for the city’s inhabitants to be on the lookout for an escaped kid just reminded everyone that the warden had failed to do his job and proved the spider’s web wasn’t as tight as he wanted kids to think. “Guess it’s back to working for a living.”

“Ehh, I’d give it another couple days,” Crutchie warned. “Make sure it ain’t on anyone’s mind anymore, y’know?” 

Jack nodded, not particularly happy with the idea but know his friend was probably right. Much as he’d like to brush it off as being overcautious there were people who wouldn’t get distracted quite so easily and might find a potential reward more interesting than foreign royalty. “I’ll give it till next week,” he said with a slight nod. 

“C’mon, enough with the work talk,” Albert called from across the room. “C’mon over here and we can get this card game started.” The boys were soon gathered around the nearby table to enjoy the rest of the evening. And Jack felt a little better at least knowing things would be back to normal for him soon enough. He was back home with his brothers and even if he was cooped up for a couple more days at least it was in good company and somewhere he could actually relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Note: The Empress story mentioned is the assassination of Empress Elisabeth (Sisi) of Austria-Hungary. I did find a number of articles in newspapers printed in New York City (including the Sun) about it though I don't know that the story was a huge deal for Americans it at least was worth reporters traveling to Europe to write about the funeral and such. Either way though her life and story is quite fascinating so it seemed like a plausible option.


End file.
